A Random Spark:EnterpriseBBabylon5 cross in 2005
by Burrofootball
Summary: The USS Enterprise NCC-1701-B and a small fleet are transported to the Babylon 5 universe...circa 2005 of our Earth.


**Enterprise B/ Real Life Xover**

This is my first fanfic, I hope you'll pardon any errors and offer constructive criticism. It's a ST: Enterprise-B / B5 circa 2005 crossover. 

Characters- ST from ST:Miranda web site  
USS Enterprise NCC-1701-B, a year after the Nexus incident  
USS Mayflower, construction ship  
USS Pawtucket, construction ship  
USS Edgewood, mining ship  
USS Titanic, colony ship  
USS Queen Mary, colony ship  
USS Flagcarrier, colony ship  
USS Pillar of Autumn, colony ship  
USS Fletcher, Miranda-class  
USS Hayes, Oberth-class  
USS Bradley, Acheron-class heavy cruiser  
USS Resolute, Adamant-class destroyer  
USS Brant, Aykazi-class gunship  
USS Abrams, Centaur-class escort  
USS Crusader, Constellation-class patrol cruiser  
USS Memphis, mobile shipyard  
USS Constance, cargo ship  
USS Half-Moon, cargo ship

20+ Romulan ships  
Modern 2005 Earth

I plan on bringing in the Minbari, Centauri, and possibly others.

A Random Spark...  
_Before Lorien, before the Preservers, before even the Q, there were the Ancients. Their culture was one of utter power over everything in the universe. At the height of their power, they created the Multiverse. Infinite diversity in infinite combinations. The Ancients were content with merely observing. Theirs was a higher level of existence, one unbound by laws or nature. They were gods, so to speak. But they still had enemies. The Unknown, a race of Ancients, were on the warpath, their goal to ascend to a plane of existence yet untouched by even the Ancients themselves. This great war led to the splintering of the Multiverse, and the Breaking of the Bonds between the universes. Eventually, peace was made, and the Ancients ascended together. But every now and then, old, broken machinery in abandoned Ancient laboratories sparks, and strange things happen..._

**Federation Space, 20 light-years from Romulan Neutral Zone**  
_Captain's Log, Stardate 32194.23_, 2300 local  
_God, I hate that Stardate thing. It's so much more useful to go by Old Style. March 20, 2294. Easier too, at least for me. Anyway, the crew just celebrated our one-year anniversary in space. Been an interesting year, but it looks like the streak of Enterprises finding everything is ending. I haven't had a first contact yet, and most of our time's been spent on research missions. Only a few battles, nothing major. Not that I'm complaining, just not what I was expecting. I'm tired after that party, going to hit the hay now. Hope we don't see action here, Romulans are getting uppity._ Captain John Harriman fell asleep in his green-trimmed robe in the Captain's Quarters.

On the bridge of the _Enterprise_, Commander Robert Martin stared at the screen from the captain's chair. He was the Executive Officer, and he had the graveyard shift. Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary, as the _Enterprise_ escorted a cargo of construction ships and mining vessels, along with a single _Oberth_, to a newly-discovered solar system, near enough to the Romular Star Empire to cause Command to assign a full squadron of ships to escort them there. _Sure is a lot of firepower for one little colony._ The entire fleet warped along at an anemic Warp Four, the best speed of most of the transports. Suddenly, the starfield flashed. The bridge of the _Enterprise_ went dark, lit only by a few red battle lanterns that came on automatically.

"Sir! Unknown energy surge! We're in realspace, same course and speed. Navigation and engines are down, sensors are short-range only." The conn's report was disturbing. Could this be some new Romulan weapon? Disabling warp drives remotely was a major task, and if they could do it, then the Federation had to know.

"What the hell was that?"

"I don't know, Sir. Systems are offline, auxiliaries kicking in...now." The bridge lighting returned, and the life-support system returned to life. "Main systems still offline; we're getting reports from the rest of the fleet. Nothing serious, no damage, all ships report the same failures we've got."

"When will systems be up?"

The young conn officer checked. Demora Sulu he was not. "Sir, engineering's reporting at least an hour on the core, and a half-hour on sensors." Robert cursed silently. A half-hour gave any Romulan ship enough time to pick the ship apart with ease.

"I'll be in Engineering. Wake Captain Harriman and give him a full report."

"Aye Aye sir."

**Romulan Space**   
The Romulan outpost on Dethora IV was a madhouse of activity. The new system discovered by the Federation was only a few dozen light-years away from the Dethora system, and only eighteen light-years inside the Federation from the Neutral Zone. The normally-isolated outpost was the temporary home to the Romulan 3rd Fleet, twenty ships of various classes, all preparing to challenge the Federation claim to the new system. The new arrivals made Dethora a busy place, and supply work was tiring the workers quickly. However, all eyes noticed the brief flicker in the stars. As on the Federation ships, power failed, and the same questions were asked.

"What in the _hell_ was that?"

"Unknown, Admiral. All primary systems are offline."

"Repair them as fast as possible. I don't want any Federationers sneaking up on us."

**USS Enterprise, half an hour later**  
True to Engineering's word, the sensors came online exactly when they were scheduled to. Martin and Harriman were in the Navigation Lab, a fancy name for the ship's observatory/Astrometics room. The problem was obvious. The stars weren't in the right place. The computer had completed its diagnostic of the problem. According to records and such, they were in the year 2005. Harriman was the first to speak when the screen displayed the computer's conclusion.

"Shit."

Chapter 2

**Minbari Space**   
The Tinashi-class frigate _Blade of Passion_ approached the new solar system that had just appeared a few hours ago. In the experiences of the Minbari, that did not happen often. The _Blade of Passion_ had sent out a call for a fleet to join it, but her captain, a member of the Warrior Caste, was insistent on examining the system and finding whatever technology there was that had defied Minbari sensors. The small ship, still massive by Federation standards, opened a jump point and slipped into it, dropping out of jump space only six AUs short of Dethora IV.

The Romulans noticed the newcomer immediately. Power was diverted into combat systems, and three Warbirds took up a position to block the intruder. The lead Warbird hailed the _Blade of Passion_.

"This is Praetor T'ral of the Romulan Star Empire. You have entered our space. Power down all systems and prepare to be boarded."

The Minbari commander was incensed. Another race _ordering_ the Minbari to do something! It was unheard of. "You are obviously unaware of how insolent you are. You will surrender immediately, and pray to your gods that I allow that insult to the Minbari Federation to go unpunished."

The Romulan sneered. "Perhaps you need a demonstration of your error." The screen blinked off, fueling the Minbari captain's rage.

"Alyt, the newcomers are moving their ships into a closer formation. Sensors are unable to scan them."

"What? No race has that kind of technology! Approach the planet. Maybe we can make them blink."

The _Blade of Passion_ swept forward, her engines at full burn. Aboard the Romulan lead ship, Praetor T'ral frowned. These new "Minbari" were ridiculously stupid, or confident. He was worried, but only a little. The unshielded ship's readings showed that it had a tremendous amount of power, but that that power was poorly applied.

"Fire a warning shot across their bow." A single disruptor bolt slammed into the void, missing the oncoming Minbari ship by a few kilometers. The Minbari reaction was more direct.

"Those fools dare to fire at a Minbari vessel? Engage stealth, fire at will." The Minbari frigate quickly powered its main weapon and fired at the Romulans. The Warbirds were maneuvering, but the massive blast of the Minbari cannon tore into one of the Warbirds, ripping away its dorsal shield and opening up the hull. The beam disabled the vessel, and a second one tore into the cratered hull, blazing a trail of molten metal through Romulan hull plating. The left wing of the Warbird separated in a dazzling explosion, and the wrecked ship lost all power. Minbari fighters poured into space, their pilots powering weapons and making runs on the Warbirds.

**Romulan Warbird _Scimitar_ **  
Praetor T'ral was angry now. One of his ships was a wreck. The dead would soon have company. "Launch all fighters, power plasma torpedoes and disruptors! Fire at will!" Romulan fighters, basically upgraded shuttles, began engaging the weaker but more agile Nials, while the two surviving Warbirds unleashed a hellish barrage of fire into the hull of the _Blade of Passion_. The thick crystalline armor was melted by plasma, and the disruptor bolts ate into the ship's drive fins. The Romulans continued to fire on the ship. The _Blade of Passion_'s powerful neutron beam tore into the Scimitar's shielding, draining the starboard side to ten percent and throwing the crew around like dice. Praetor T'ran clung to his station, firing the disruptors himself, since his weapons officer was unconscious, possibly dead. Green fire plowed through the space between the ships and tore through crystalline armor, passing blue bolts of neutrons blasting away at Romulan shields. The _Scimitar_ and her sister ship were holding their own, astonishing the Minbari alyt. _Never have I seen anything like this. First Ones!_ The Minbari alyt was wrong, but his judgment did not matter, because his station was opened to vacuum a second after the thought flashed through his mind. The _Blade of Passion_ continued to fire, but the ship was now the target of _six_ warbirds, and the pounding broke the back of the proud ship. Her containment fields failed, and the quantum singularity failed, loosing a black hole inside the ship. The hole was not stable, but it existed long enough to tear apart the interior and suck in the majority of the ship...before all the debris was shot out in a massive explosion as the hole destabilized. All that remained of the over-eager Alyt and his crew were their component atoms.

Sixty light-years away, the message from the _Blade of Passion_ was received.

**The Q's Sanctum**   
A was a very concerned Q. His brothers and sisters were constantly doing odd things, disobeying the commandments the First Qs had given them before Ascending, but A was loyal, along with B. The two worked well together, patching up the messes made by other members of the Continuum. However, some things could not be fixed by snapping fingers.

"B, it looks like this incursion isn't going away."

"Damn. Should we tell the others?"

"No point. But look, they ended up in _that_ universe. Too many uppity proto-Ascended races there for their own good."  
Now, A had always had a fondness for the universe in question, and the last time the Continuum had let in a Vorlon, the maddening little creature had asked too many questions, been left with a book, and gotten more arrogant than even Q. Z had finally tossed it into a supernova to shut it up. _Don't want to repeat that._ A smiled. He'd just go back and tell the Vorlons not to try anything...same with the Shadows.

Chapter 3

**Zha'ha'dum**

A figure appeared on the very same balcony that Captain Sheridan was to stand on two centuries from now. A black man with the uncanny appearance of Denzel Washington stood on the balcony, overlooking the city. With a snap of his fingers, A summoned the Shadow leader from his slumber. The hideous, spidery being instantly recognized the Q and dropped to its "knees."

"Arise, Shadow. I bring instruction." Slowly, the Shadow rose from the ground, its eyes staring in awe at the Q. To it, A was the definition of perfect.  
A spoke. "Shadow, this is a warning. Your feud with the Vorlons has gone on long enough. When you awaken, leave this place for the Rim. Do not linger."

The Shadow nodded, or at least its movement approximated a nod.  
"We understand. We shall not press the issue."

"Good." A turned towards the city, oddly beautiful in the shadows of slumber. He raised his hand.

"Wait. I have a question, Great One." A paused.

"Yes?"

The Shadow hesitated, stumbling over words. "Were...were we right? About the Young Races, I mean? We mean, that is?"

A thought for a second, an eternity for a Q.

"Time will tell." With a snap and a flash, he was gone.

**Vorlon Homeworld**  
The same man appeared at the core of the Vorlon homeworld. The squidlike Vorlons were benevolent at first, but like their Minbari pets, they were often arrogant, and to the irritation of A, prone to riddles. A stormed through the aquatic habitat of the Vorlons and snapped his fingers. The Vorlon Ambassador appeared. A wasted no time.

"Look, Kosh, this is how it is. Leave. Now. There will be no second chance. And before you give that artifact to the Shadows, think about this. Preascended races opening interdimensional holes to harm others is frowned upon. So go to the Rim. Now." With a flash of his fingers, A returned to the Continuum, leaving a thoroughly terrifed Kosh.

Chapter 4

**USS Enterprise, Astrometrics**

Astrometrics was a smallish room with a domed "roof." Holographic projections of the stars glowed, two and a half centuries out of position. Some were even missing altogether. The room, crowded by command staff and scientists, was growing loud. Finally, Captain Harriman stepped to the center console and shouted.

"Everyone quiet! Now! One at a time!" The order had the intended effect, as conversation and argument ceased.

"Good. First Chief Engineer Foster will give his report."  
Chief Foster was a tall, wizened Yankee from Boston. He was tall, blonde, and strong, with a mind that seemed to grasp warp equations as quickly as a normal person learned multiplication tables. He stood at the back of the room, alone with a small padd.

"It's not bad. Warp drives are coming online in a few minutes, long-range sensors are up, and weapons are online. She's fully operational, as are the other ships."  
Captain Harriman nodded.

"That's good news. We might need those weapons. Supplies?"  
A tall, thin woman with jet-black hair stepped forward.  
"We've got plenty of everything, should be good for three months at least."

Harriman nodded again. "Science?"

A tall Vulcan stepped forward. "Instruments on all ships have confirmed our initial readings. We are in the year 2005, but there are some...anomalies. By this time, Vulcan should be using warp drives, as should Andor, but our scans did not detect any traces of either race in space. We must approach the planets for a better look."

Harriman nodded grimly. "So, any news on the Event?"

"No. Scans were inconclusive. Aside from a tachyon surge and some unknown energy that seemed to disappear, the universe is completely normal, energy-wise."

"But we're in the past, and apparently, it's not _our _past."

"Correct, sir. Our scans also showed an unusual amount of tachyon activity, and some sort of structure a light-year ahead of us. It may be a space station."

"We could see what the hell's going on..." Harriman mused. _This job just got a lot more interesting._ "Set course for our original destination, warp three. The _Hayes_ will stay behind and monitor the area, see if we can find a way back." The other captains agreed quickly to the order, proclaiming it sound, and returned to their ships. Two hours later, the Fleet warped out, on course for what was, in this universe, Centauri Prime, with the exception of the _Hayes_, which began an intensive study of the anomaly.

**Laboratory of the Ancients**  
A ran through the abandoned laboratory, his footsteps quickening as he raced towards the dusty table at the far end of the building. He was very careful not to touch anything more than he had to, since even a Q had very little idea how these things worked. He reached the table labeled "Humans" and looked down. It was an ordinary-sized table, ten meters long, three wide, slowly growing. On it were mounted trillions of tiny dots, each with a number and a screen mounted on the wall behind the table. On one, a long, angular ship with outriggers fought off mechanical creations. Another screen displayed a white, triangular ship engaging a much smaller saucer. There were thousands of screens, maybe millions. And more seemed to be appearing, with the wall and the table growing underneath them. From what A knew, each decision made by the universe's inhabitants created an infinite amount of universes, which were generated by the Machine. The new universes were slowly expanding, while old universes that fell off the table died. He found the new universe in question at the heart of the table and plucked it from its place, putting it in an isolated area, along with the Star Trek home universe created by the disappearance of the _Enterprise_ . _This should be interesting..._. A noticed his power pack. Even the Q needed extra power to get to this level of existence. A sighed, grabbed the remote control for the monitor, and returned to the Continuum.

Chapter 5

**1 Day After the Event**  
**Jumpgate XA-1247** , **Centauri Minor**

Jumpgate XA-1247 was a lonely outpost in a nearly-deserted system a few light-years from Centauri Prime. The gate had been used in some long-forgotten venture to mine asteroids in the small, barren system, but it had not seen much use in years past. An occasional Centauri patrol was the only sign the rest of the universe even existed. Now, the jumpgate was joined by another group of travelers.

**Bridge of the USS Enterprise**  
The science team was hunched over consoles, scanning for every detail they could. Captain Harriman watched and waited, growing more impatient with every second that passed. Finally, Science Officer Sulak stood and announced the team's findings.

"Captain, the structure is apparently a transportation node. It contains a tachyon receiver, generators, and a grid that apparently opens a direct connection to another dimension, similar to our own subspace."

"So...it's a stationary warp drive?" Harriman was confused. _Why?_

"Essentially, yes. The gate opens a hole to another dimension, presumably allowing faster travel."

"Anything else?"

"The gate seems to be constructed of multiple alloys, and there is one unknown element. It appears to be able to release massive amounts of energy, but how or why is unknown at this time."

Harriman paused. "So, can we use the gate?"

"Unknown, sir. We have been able to interface with the computers somewhat, but we cannot trigger the gate. It seems to work only when proper codes are submitted."

"Can we hack it?"

"Possible, but from what we have deciphered, the dimension it leads to is unstable and hazardous. We are evidently not equipped for it."

"Figures. Well, at least we've got warp. Did the gate offer any clues as to the local population?"

"Only a few markings on the hull identifying the gate as belonging to a race called the Centauri."

"Well, at least they've got a name. Continue scanning the gate."

The sensor officer shouted, interrupting the Captain as he pored over the data feeds collected earlier. "Sir! Energy surge from the gate!" A massive blue vortex swirled into life inside the gate, giving Starfleet sensors a peek into the alternate dimension.

"Fascinating..." Sulak stood over her console, draining every last bit of data from the anomaly. A large, wine-colored ship with four wings curved forward shot out of the heart of the vortex, which quickly disappeared.  
Captain Harriman had his first contact.

**Centauri Vorchan**  
Lord Mollari of the House of Mollari stood on the bridge of his ship and stared.

"What have we here?"

Chapter 6

First Contact

**1 Day After (Day 2)**  
**USS Enterprise**  
Captain Harriman stared at the screen. This was...odd. First Contact situations when you were in an alternate universe that happened to be in your world's past weren't covered in the book.

"Sir, we're being bombarded by tachyons from that ship."

"Is it a weapon?"

"I don't think so, sir. Energy is too low. I think it's a communications transmission."

Robert added his own two cents. "That would explain all the tachyon activity we've been picking up. Try resetting the sensors to read tachyon frequencies we recorded in use when we analyzed the gate."

The communications officer worked for a minute and raised her head. "Done, sir. Opening channel, receive only."

The screen came alive, the image of the Centauri ship replaced with a video of its bridge. The first few seconds of the transmission were an unintelligible blur of sound and light as the Universal Translators worked to adapt the format to something the Federation systems could use. Finally, the image steadied, and the voices became more normal.

"This is Captain Garis Mollari of the Centauri Royal Navy. You have entered our space without identification. We demand your response."

Captain Harriman took a deep breath. "Hail those Centauri. We've got a lot to talk about."

**Centauri Vorchan _Talon of Vengeance_**  
Captain Mollari of House Mollari and the Royal Navy of the Centauri Republic was growing increasingly anxious. These newcomers were opaque to his sensors, and they were inside Centauri space...deep inside. The borders were almost twenty light-years away! These ships did not match the Orieni, but they were still disturbing. The Republic was in over its head already, and the last thing they needed was more enemies.

"Captain! They are hailing us!"

_Took them long enough. My heart would've exploded if they made me wait much more._ "Put them onscreen." A large, black-trimmed bridge appeared. It was dominated by a padded set of chairs facing the viewscreen, with one in the center. The chair's occupant, a tall humanoid with a full head of close-cropped brown hair, stood up and addressed Mollari.

"This is the Federation starship _Enterprise_. We come in peace."

Mollari was instantly even more suspicious. What way was there to make an attack more devastating if your enemy reassured you of his peaceful intent beforehand? "I am glad to see that you have responded to my hails. I am Captain Garis Mollari, and this is the _Talon of Vengeance._ We detected someone tampering with the jump gate. That is a serious interstellar crime, almost as serious as coming this far into an empire at war."

"Captain Mollari, we did not intend to trespass or violate any laws."

_Then why is he here with a fleet?_ "You seem to have brought a lot of ships for a simple trade mission or expedition. It appears to be a battle fleet, heading for our homeworld."

"Captain Mollari, we are newcomers to this region. We do not wish conflict, only learning. We are not here for hostile purposes."

Mollari considered the newcomer's statement. Obviously, they had no idea who they were dealing with here, and that applied to both sides. These new ships were big, and despite Garis's words, he was terrified at the prospect of having to fight something with power readings to make the Minbari envious. Such technology could be quite beneficial to the Republic...and the House of Mollari. Garis turned to the screen and announced his decision.

"You shall remain here for the time being. We are preparing a brief history of the Republic, which we will transmit to you. We request that you do the same."

The tall man nodded and agreed, then closed the channel. Garis Mollari turned and sought his communications officer.

"Transmit the following to Fleet Command. 'Pirates responsible for gate intrusion, destroyed.' Then get me a secure channel to House Mollari." The _Talon of Vengeance_ was entirely crewed by members of House Mollari or its subservient Houses, and the communications staff could be trusted. Mollari went to his quarters, locked the door, and turned on the communications panel.

"Father, I need your advice."

**USS Enterprise**  
As soon as the channel was closed, Harriman let loose a sigh of relief and dropped into his chair.

"That was fun. First First Contact for this ship!"

Commander Martin nodded. "More importantly, we were able to get some very good scans of that ship while you were talking. For all its size, it's got very little real power. The weapons are impressive enough, but she's _slow_. We can run circles around her at full impulse."

Lieutenant Commander Sulak added her analysis. "The ship seems to run on a matter/antimatter device similar to our own warp core, but they manage the reaction less efficently. Power is roughly equal, but their system is much less stable in an active subspace environment. It's almost like an old Earth warp core taken to an extreme."

Harriman stood. "Good job, people. Get the _Hayes_ over here as soon as possible and prepare a diplomatic history for the Centauri. Standard edits and such. I'll be in Engineering." He left the bridge.

Robert stared at the Centauri ship. _Just another day in the Fleet._

**Dethora System**  
The Romulan Star Empire was gone. That they had learned from communications failures and scans of the surrounding area. One scout frigate had been dispatched to Romulus to see if anything was still as it should be. As for the rest of the universe...the Minbari were undoubtedly hostile, but war with an unknown enemy was the definition of foolish. For now, the Romulans would watch and wait, always preparing.

Chapter 7

**First Contact, Romulan-style**

**Scout Frigate RIS _Tomalok_**  
**Romulus system**

Space warped and folded, a tunnel of white light appeared, and a ship broke into realspace...promptly cloaking itself to avoid the patrols of massive wine-colored vessels which concentrated over Romulus. The _Tomalok_ swept into polar orbit of its home planet and began scanning the surface. The sensors revealed over four billion Romulans living in massive, overdeveloped cities on the surface. They filled the airwaves with primitive radio transmissions, transmissions their extrauniversal brothers watched with increasing interest. It quickly became apparent that this alternate Romulus had been subjugated by an alien race known as the Centauri nearly three hundred years ago. The aliens had been relatively lenient, but in the past years, their wars had caused them to increase pressure on the Romulans, and the Romulans had rebelled. According to the transmissions, the Romulans had forced out the Centauri, and they were preparing for their own Empire...something they shared with their brothers.

Subcommander Toram watched the screens like a hawk, intent on learning all he could about this new and different Romulus. He had already requested that the Romulan fleet join him in-system to defend Romulus, and possibly open contact with their younger brothers. A new Romulus was a shock, but once it had become apparent where and when they were, the Romulans had become enthusiastic. The Empire would have a massive advantage! Or so Toram and his crew hoped. His reverie was interrupted by a series of alarms from the sensor panel.

"Sir, sensors are picking up multiple contacts, extremely distant."

"Can you identify them?"

"Yes, sir. They are the _Avatar_ and the _Retribution_."

"Good. That should provide enough coverage to keep our brothers safe."

"Something else, sir...that large structure on the outskirts of the system is generating a lot of power."

"What?"

"It seems to be opening something, a gateway to another dimension."

"Take us closer. I want a visual!" The _Tomalok_ warped to within a hundred thousand kilometers of the gate and halted, watching from under her cloak. The old Centauri gate was still active. Ships poured out by the tens.

"What in the name of the Gods are those?" Dozens of Centauri ships poured from the vortex, assembling in a wall formation ahead of the gate, their bows aimed at Romulus. The swirling vortex finally collapsed, and fifty-six Centauri ships moved towards Romulus. The lead Centauri ship hailed the planet, and naturally, the _Tomalok_ listened in.

"This is Grand Admiral Kostros, of the Royal Navy. Your rebellion is over. Surrender and accept our authority or die."

Aboard the _Tomalok_, Subcommander Toram exchanged shocked glances with his crew. "That's not going to happen."

"Subcommander, I am detecting a response from Romulus."

"Onscreen!"

The image of a tall Romulan standing before a Bird-of-Prey clutching a single globe appeared. "We shall never submit! Your depravities have lasted long enough! We will fight!" Subcommander Toram nodded in approval, their brothers had a warrior's spirit.

"Sir! Two of our local Romulan ships are attacking the fleet, bearing 92 by 107." Everyone noticed the sensor operator's use of 'our,' but they all silently agreed. Their brothers would be helped.

"Open a channel to Dethora IV now." Subcommander Toram quickly briefed Admiral T'ral on the situation.

"Get in there. Reinforcements are on their way. Defend our people, Subcommander."

Toram nodded and saluted, the official Romulan salute. A hand pounded on the chest. "It will be done."

"Good luck, Subcommander. May the gods be with you." The channel closed.

Toram turned to his communications officer and made his first order in battle. "Broadcast to the entire alien fleet. 'This is Toral of Romulus. Turn back now or be destroyed.'" The communications officer nodded and transmitted the message.

"The aliens are broadcasting a reply, Sir"

"On speakers."

The crackling of tachyon static filled the speakers for a moment, then gibberish, then the universal translator kicked in. "This is Lord Kostros. You will surrender or die." The channel closed with a grim finality.

"Helm, set course for that fleet, maximum impulse. Weapons, prepare all plasma tubes and disruptors. Decloak on my mark." The _Tomalok_ swept in behind the Centauri ships, staring at dozens of exhausts.

"Uncloak and fire." _RIS Tomalok_ appeared at the rear of the formation and unleashed a volley of plasma and disruptor fire into the engines of an unfortunate Primus. The ship faltered and dropped out of formation, power flickering.

Toram was giddy. His first kill! "Target that ship and fire at will! For the Empire!"

His gunners obliged, green disruptor bolts rained down on unshielded Centauri hull plating and ripped apart vital systems. The Primus went dark, her power grid destroyed.

"Take us in, all weapons, concentrate on the largest ships first."

**Centauri ship _House of Kostros_**  
Lord Admiral Kostros was stunned. His House was coming to reclaim their subjects, and now this? Already, one of his House's Primus-class cruisers was gone, its attacker smaller than a destroyer, and seeming to flicker in and out of existence as its outrageous weapons tore apart Centauri...his Centauri.

"Concentrate fire on that ship! I want her shorn in a million pieces."

**_RIS Tomalok_**   
Orange hell rained upon the swift little frigate, but her helmsman skillfully avoided most of the beams. Those that did hit drained shields, but little else. The Centauri beams needed to focus for several seconds to punch through, something they were not adept at. Still, there were too many beams to avoid, and smoke began to fill the bridge of the Romulan ship.

"Nothing to worry about, Toram! This is just battle haze!" The jovial (and old) Chief Engineer Surav had been in battle countless times, and his experience was keeping the ship together. Despite his reassuring boasts, Surav was scared. In previous battles, his ship had taken more damage, but never so _fast_. His shield generator, his pride and joy, was standing up to the punishment, but the glowing cocoon of energy was nearly depleted, running at less than thirty percent. Energy was beginning to leak into the hull, and power surges were wrecking havoc on systems. Surav hunched over his console and worked his controls, rerouting relays and shunting power into shields and engines, and weapons.

Toram had other troubles. He was busily directing his ship, but the Centauri were swarming him, and the _Tomalok_ didn't have the power to tear apart one of the ships in one volley. A Vorchan filled the screen, fire belching from a rent in her hull caused by a disruptor bolt at close range...then the _Tomalok_ shrieked as a massive impact jarred her. The wounded Vorchan had just fired off both of its ion cannons and six of its particle cannons, pounding the _Tomalok_ as it swept overhead.

"Sir! The cloak is down, engines are at seventy percent, and aft shields have failed."

A second impact, further aft, punctuated the danger, as hot plasma and particles blasted Romulan armor.

"Curse those dishonorable Centauri! To the fires of Erebus with them! Helm, continue evasive course, take us towards the flagship, head of the formation. Weapons, I want every ship between us dead or dying. Comms, get the _Avatar_ over here now!"

The plucky little ship tore into the Centauri with renewed vigor, her damage only seeming to increase her fury. Dozens of Sentris and a few capital ships fell to her blazing cannons.

**RIS _Avatar_**  
Space flashed by at Warp Eight, the Warbird's best speed.

"Five minutes away! The _Tomalok_ is requesting assistance, she is heavily engaged."

Praetor S'ral wore a grim face. "Prepare all weapons for immediate firing. We'll drop out of warp right on top of them."

**RIS _Tomalok_**  
Subcommander Toram coughed and picked himself off the deck. Broken rib at least, hopefully not more. Green blood flowed from his cheek, and his face was bruised. Flames raged at several consoles, unextinguished by the automatic systems. Some of his crew were picking themselves up. Others were not.

"Toram, systems are down, weapons are destroyed." Surav shook his head. "We've taken critical damage."

Toram was shocked. It couldn't end like this. A panel beeped, incessantly. Surav shrugged and moved over to the communications panel, stabbing one of the few remaining controls. The damaged speakers came to life.

"This is Lord Kostros of the Centauri Republic. Your ship is wrecked, there is no hope for your crew. Surrender and we will allow you to live."

Toram spat. A Romulan never surrendered. "You have no idea, Kostros. This is a ship of the Empire! We may die, but we will never be defeated!"

On his bridge, Kostros was shocked. These "Romulans" were a hardy lot, although his scans showed they were biologically the same as his subjects on the world below. Even on the verge of defeat, they refused to give in. _Just like the old warriors fighting the Xon._

"Prepare a boarding party. I want that ship."

**RIS _Tomalok_**  
The Centauri breaching pods had launched.

"Surav, can we shoot them down?"

"No, sir. Weapons are gone, shields are gone, everything's gone."

Toram paused. "Prepare for boarders. We will self-destruct when we are overrun." The young man's voice cracked. Toram was only twenty. _Damnation, it's not supposed to end like this!_

Toram turned and stared at the viewscreen.

**Six thousand kilometers behind the Centauri formation**  
The Centauri fleet encircled the Romulan ship, forty-seven ships aiming their weapons at her. They thought she was alone.

They were wrong.

Two Romulan Warbirds dropped from subspace a mere six thousand kilometers from the formation. They announced themselves with a rain of green disruptor bolts and plasma torpedoes.

Lord Kostros never had a chance. A full salvo from a Romulan Warbird, a ship designed to beat fully-shielded Federation battleships, impacted his Primus, vaporizing it instantly. Three more Primuses and a Vorchan followed in its fate, the powerful Centauri ships helpless against the fully-shielded Warbirds. The Centauri, realizing that they had no hope of winning, turned away and began opening jump points. Sixteen were destroyed while doing so, their engines and weapons cooking off in massive displays of light visible from Romulus. The rest escaped, only twenty-six ships. That left six ships undestroyed by the _Tomalok_, all damaged or disabled, as well as several dozen fighters that had not fled into hyperspace. The fighters were picked off quickly, and transporters cleared the Centauri ships of any hostiles in short order, scattering potential defenders in the void. Few prisoners were taken.

Subcommander Toram awoke in a Romulan sickbay. He stood, but was forced down by the doctors. His last conscious memory was of Surav standing over him, watching him like his long-dead grandfather.

On the bridge of the _Avatar_, Praetor S'ral wore a grim face, but inside, he was thrilled, and proud. Toram was a Romulan hero.

"Open a channel to the Homeworld. Tell them who we are."

Chapter 8

**Talon of Vengeance, Centauri Minor**  
Captain Garis Mollari waited on his father's reply.

"So, they are totally new, and their only source of information on the Centauri is you?"

"Yes, Father. Their technology is amazing!"

"Son, do you see where this could take us?"

"I do, Father. Advanced aliens in the House of Mollari's pocket. The throne could be _ours._

"Tell them our version of the story. Keep them in Centauri Minor. I will reroute other House patrols to keep the secret. And for the love of the gods, all of them, _don't anger them!_"

Garis swallowed and nodded. "I won't."

Unknown to Garis, and even to the Federation, their meeting was observed. A single Vorchan, waiting in hyperspace, monitored Garis's conversation with his father. _House Mollari cannot have all of the good things. House Refa will take the throne, for we are worthy!_ The spy quickly forwarded its report to the Homeworld.

**USS Enterprise**  
Commander Martin was worried. This just didn't feel right at all. The Centauri were keeping them isolated, but from what he had inferred from their history, it seemed that the Republic was a house-based system, and that all of the Centauri seemed to be from the same House.

"Captain, I'm not feeling great about this."

"Neither am I, Robert. But this is their space."

"I know. It just seems...wrong to wait here for them. It's their ball, their bat, and their turf. And we're standing on the pitcher's mound."

"I know. How about this. If a fleet shows up, we run like hell."

Robert nodded in approval. "Sounds good, sir."

**Uninvited Guests**

**Centauri Minor, 3 Days After the Event**

The system, once empty except for a solitary jump gate, was now inhabited by the lost Federation fleet, three ships of the House of Mollari, and a lot of tension. During the last day, the Centauri had agreed to a conference aboard the _Enterprise_. Their captain and some of his staff were shuttled over to the _Enterprise_ at 0700 on the morning of Day 3. Captain Harriman was on-deck to greet the Centauri delegation as they left the shuttle.

"Sure hope this goes well." The seals on the door cracked, and the MACO contingent prepared to fire at the first sign of trouble.

"Me too, sir." Robert was equally nervous.

The Centauri hatch came open slowly, and a man stepped out. His hair was the first thing the Starfleeters noticed, followed by his scent. Apparently, the Centauri believed that the more overpowering your scent, the better the negotiations.

"Captain, I am honored to be received on your vessel. May I present my diplomatic corps? This is Virgo Mollar, my head advisor, and this is..."

Robert tuned out. The long list of aliens, almost twenty in all, were only security concerns for him. They looked around with wonder at their surroundings, and he was quite sure those long robes held enough scanning instruments to outfit a good-sized science ship.

"Captain Mollari, if you would please come this way..." Captain Harriman led the way to the Conference Room. The entourage was quite large, with MACOs, extra security, Centauri, and command staff all entering the same room. Water and some Earth foods were on the tables, and the Centauri immediately began sampling some of them. The grapes were particularly hard-hit. After the standard pleasantries were exchanged, Captain Mollari and Captain Harriman got down to business, moving to an isolated corner of the room, closed off by a set of doors.

"Captain Mollari, I would like to thank you for agreeing to this meeting, and allowing us to remain here. Most alien races I know of would've kicked us out a long time ago." The Universal Translator worked its magic.

Garis was still amazed at the little gadget that translated everything he said. _House Mollari could become very wealthy from these._ "It is not a problem. We are a peaceful people."

John Harriman was not one to stand on circumstance. "Captain, I am going to be honest about this. I have serious concerns about this situation."

"Why, Captain? Surely you do not feel threatened?"

"As far as I can see, this...Republic of yours has followed a policy of forced assimilation ever since you took to the stars. Dozens of races subjugated...it's awful. To be honest, I don't trust you."

Mollari was stunned, but like all noble Centauri, he had long ago learned to control his expressions, and this newcomer was nothing compared to the Court. "We have expanded our way of life, and our member races are happier than ever. The Centauri Republic is praised universally."

Captain Harriman snorted. "Bullshit. According to what we've picked up off of your unsecured com channels, your 'Republic' is a weakening old network of patricians who try and gain power any way they can. Including us. Odd, how every ship out there- Harriman pointed at the Vorchan- belongs to a single House?"

Mollari was stunned. How could they have found out so much? He had underestimated the Newcomers, these "Starfleeters." How could he salvage this? "I understand your concerns, but let me reassure you. The Republic welcomes you." It was a weak reply, and both men knew it.

"Then why haven't you told anyone except your House about us? We will not be a party to your own fortunes."

Mollari was shocked. The Federation could listen in on secure channels! _Damned technology_. He opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut off by a loud alert sound. Captain Harriman instantly refocused and moved to a wall panel.

"Report."

Robert's voice came over the speaker. "Sir, we just had multiple ships exit hyperspace. They're demanding to speak with us and Captain Mollari."

"Put it onscreen." The image of a ridiculously overdressed Centauri man appeared, and Mollari growled instinctively.

"Refa."

Refa apparently did not notice Mollari's response, as he immediately launched into an elaborate speech.

"This is Lord Admiral Refa. Your ships are intruding in Centauri space in a time of war. As such, they are now the property of the Republic. Stand down and prepare to be boarded."

Harriman grunted. _Oh, hell no_. "Admiral Refa, we have already established diplomatic contact with your people."

Refa stared at the screen, finally noticing Mollari standing in the background.  
"Traitorous dog, always grabbing the tastiest morsels for your own House, never sharing any with us? You would toss food away to spite a beggar."

Mollari was incensed. All vestiges of self-control were gone now. "And you would do better? These Newcomers will not help the House of Refa to power!"

Refa grinned viciously. "If they will not, then no one will benefit from their presence. Especially not you." He had evidently forgotten that Harriman was watching and listening to the verbal battle the whole time.

"We're not helping either of you. End of story."

Refa shrugged. "So be it." The channel closed.

"Captain, the new ships are on an intercept course, they're charging weapons."

"Beam Mollari and his staff back to their ship, raise shields. I'm on my way to the bridge." Mollari started to object, but he was gripped by a peculiar tingling sensation that seemed to spread across his body. He shouted, but appeared...on his bridge. _Transmission technology! We must have these ships!_

**USS Enterprise**   
Captain Harriman was on the bridge in record time.

"Report."

"Sir, the new ships have Mollari outgunned eight to one, and they're targeting everyone. Both sides are launching fighters."

"Hail the rest of the Fleet."

The images of every captain appeared on the screen. All were silent, awaiting orders.

"Set course for Earth, Warp Four. We won't be party to a civil war." There were no objections, and the first of the ships began disappearing into warp.

"Sir, the Centauri are hailing."

"Put them through."

"You attempt to escape? The House of Refa shall crush you!" The apparently-insane Centauri put actions to words by opening fire on the _Enterprise_. Orange pulses hit Starfleet shields...and did absolutely nothing.

"Slight drain on Shield 4, adjusting now."

"Return fire, phasers only. Show them who's who." Red phaser bolts streaked past the Centauri volley and gouged massive chunks out of the weapons arrays of Refa's Primus. A second beam did the same to the other Primus, while Mollari's ships wisely retreated. Refa's ships, those that had not been disabled, charged the _Enterprise_, in a desperate attempt to cut her off from the rest of the Fleet. This was a mistake. The _USS Crusader_ was waiting for _Enterprise_ to warp out, and her captain felt that the threat to her larger sister was real...real enough to send a phaser barrage into a single Primus moving in on the _Enterprise_'s escape vector. The red-hot beams tore the heavy Centauri ship to shreds, the energy released vaporizing the interior within a second. _Enterprise_ swept past the rapidly cooling hulk and jumped into warp. The _Crusader_ followed a second later, leaving a stunned Centauri fleet.

**Centauri Ship Talon of Vengeance**  
Garis Mollari was glad to be alive. The display of firepower had been...awesome. _Serves Refa right for messing everything up like that._ Mollari turned to his comm officer and ordered the small House fleet to get back to Centauri Prime before Refa started shooting at them. He might have failed utterly in the negotiations, but Refa could be blamed for a lot.

**Centauri Ship _Legacy of Refa_**  
Lord Admiral Refa, of the House of Refa was enraged. One of his best crews was dead, and his own ship was disabled. But his rage did not dampen his amazement at that technology. _We need those ships!_ Such things had never before been recorded by the Centauri. He could see why House Mollari had wanted them for itself. Those ships could quite possibly defeat the entire Royal Navy. _Probably for the better they aren't helping Mollari._

**The Fate of a World**

**Day 5**

**Hyperspace, en route to Orieni Space**  
The swirling expanse of hyperspace was choked with almost a hundred Centauri ships, heading for the front lines of the war between the Orieni and the Centauri. Most of the ships were of House Tracias, the current Imperial House. The rest were from the houses of Kostros and Farade, strong allies of the Centauri royal family. The Royal Navy had been unwilling to commit to the operation, and the Emperor needed a victory for his House more than the Republic as a whole, so he had sent out this force. Their mission was to retake a Centauri system recently lost in the war of attrition that was grinding both nations apart.

Grand Admiral Tracias Loran stared out from the modified bridge of his Primus. He, the brother of the Emperor, had been given command of this magnificent fleet. He was one of the few genuinely good tacticians in the Royal Navy at the time, which made the appointment a sound idea. Still, he had quite a job ahead of him. _I hope all goes according to plan_.

Hyperspace is an unforgiving place, and things happen more quickly there. Grand Admiral Tracias Loran, brother of the Centauri emperor and heir to the throne, was knocked off his feet in a most unroyal way. As he stood, an Orieni battlecruiser flashed between his ship and another, unloading its energy cannons into both ships. The strong armor of the Primus held, and his weapons crews were hitting the Orieni ship...just not hard enough. Admiral Loran watched as the Orieni ship escaped and faded from sensors.

"What in the name of Kynshu was that?"

"Sir, he took us by surprise."

"And when did that become an excuse? We almost lost two ships!"

"Sir, I apologize for the failure to detect the ship. My life is in your hands."

Admiral Loran waved the quivering young officer away. "It is not your fault. Hyperspace is unforgiving. Keep a closer eye out. Now, we must find that ship before it reports our position."

Unfortunately for the Centauri, the Orieni ship was not alone. It was the scout for a rather large Orieni fleet moving down the hyperspace channel. One minute, the fleet's sensors were clear. The next, hyperspace was a mass of energy bolts, missiles, and ships.

"Damn them to all the fires of all the gods!" A massive energy blast wracked the Primus ahead of the flagship, gutting it quickly. "We can't fight them here. Drop to realspace."

The Centauri fleet exited hyperspace and formed up. They would have several minutes to get their bearings before the battle began in earnest.

"Launch all fighters, prepare to target jump points." Sentri fighters swarmed around their motherships like flies around rotten meat, while the Centauri ships struggled into formation.

"Jump points opening insystem." The fleet's sensors quickly zoomed in. Against the glow of a small yellow star, blue exit vortexes were visible. "Estimated Orieni strength is one hundred six vessels, sir. We muster ninety-three." The ops officers' report was calm, but everyone knew the odds to be against the Centauri. Orieni ships and training were good.

Admiral Loran raised his hand and pointed to the small yellow star. "Advance! For Centauri!" The Centauri ships charged the Orieni, weapons firing at maximum range to kill a few ships before the battle became a melee. Ten minutes after firing started, the fleets collided in a real and epic battle, between the third and fourth planets of the system. The crews of both fleets were interested only in killing and surviving. No one in space took notice of the little blue planet, or its terrified inhabitants.

**Earth orbit, International Space Station**   
The view from the ISS was amazing. Every viewport on the station was filled with faces, telescopes, and cameras. The footage was being broadcast live to the world. Aliens had been discovered, and although Earth was in turmoil, the astronauts and cosmonauts on the space station stared out at Mars, and the battle taking place. Every blast of radiation from exploding ships changed Earth a little more, altering the destiny of the human race. Here was proof of the long-sought extraterrestrials.

**White House**  
President George W. Bush was glued to the television, like every other human with access to one. Aliens! He reached over to a phone and dialed the White House operator.

"Get me Area 51."

**Oort Cloud**  
The Federation fleet came out of warp just outside of Pluto's orbit. They did not want to risk changing history without knowing everything they could first. However, even as they dropped out of warp and their long-range sensors came online, they knew history was changing. For the second time in a week, John Harriman cursed.

"Shit."

Robert stared at the representation of the battle on the screen.

"Those Centauri sure do get around." He turned to face Harriman. "Sir, what now?"

"I don't know, but I do know there's no way in hell we leave Earth open to attack. Ever. Order the transports to go into the Oort Cloud, go into silent running. We'll take the warships behind Luna and watch over Earth."

Harriman took a minute to explain the plan to the Fleet, and when no one disagreed, he gave the order.

"Take us in, Warp Three." The _Enterprise_ led the way, warping in to defend their younger brothers from any possible attacks.

**The Battle**  
Grand Admiral Tracias Loran was bleeding. His ship, bearing the Imperial Crest, was a special target for Orieni gunners, and the bridge had taken quite a pounding. The screen showed a scene of utter chaos, as destroyed, damaged, and disabled craft filled the battlefield, with living ships darting in between. The battle was going well for the Centauri, or at least better than they thought it would go. Six Primus-class cruisers and a dozen Vorchans, along with lighter ships, had formed a wing, and were concentrating on small groups of the most powerful Orieni ships. Sentri squadrons, although mostly decimated by antifighter weapons, kept the Orieni fighters busy. However, the Orieni advantage in numbers was taking its toll. Loran's hearts sank as two of the Primuses that had been doing so well were ambushed and destroyed by a half-dozen Orieni battlecrusiers. The guns of the flagship lashed out in retribution, but their bright orange pulses only damaged the Orieni ships. The Centauri fleet was in disarray. Some less dedicated commanders opened jump points and fled. Tracias would never consider such dishonor.

"Continue firing! Order the fleet to regroup here!" He stabbed the starmap's picture of the third planet.

"It is done, my lord." Thirty-nine of the original ninety-three ships remained, many nursing battle damage. The fleet broke away, taking heavy fire. Within twenty minutes, they had escaped the maximum range of the Orieni, who were busy dealing with stragglers.

"We just might live through this after all." Loran was hopeful that the Orieni would pull back. Surely they knew a relief force was coming. Any Orieni commander always knew Centauri relief forces would head to any battle being lost, and early in the fight, he had transmitted a distress call.

"My Lord! Multiple jump points, straight ahead!" Loran squinted at the tiny blue vortexes for a few seconds, then looked at the sensor board.

"Drazi."

**Oh Shit...**

**Between the Hammer and the Anvil**

Grand Admiral Loran wore a grim smile on his face. The Drazi had joined the war, at least here. _There's no way to win this_, he realized. _Not in realspace, anyway_. 

"Helm, prepare to jump." The helm officer looked back at him.

"Sir?"

"You heard me, Centurion. Prepare to jump to hyperspace."

"Yes, sir."

"Relay word to the fleet. We're to continue along the path for five seconds, then drop out of hyperspace. That should get us to the other side of the system."

"Aye, sir."

_The Centauri ships powered their jump drives and opened vortexes._

**Sixty thousand miles behind the Centauri fleet**  
The Orienti fleet was not going to let the Drazi have all the honor of the kill. The admiral of the fleet was about to make a fateful decision.

"Jump to the Centauri. We will overwhelm them at close range."

_The Orienti fleet entered hyperspace and exited a second later, exiting inside the Centauri vortexes._

**Disaster**  
**USS Enterprise**  
The sensors had been providing a relatively clear view of the battle. Suddenly, they just stopped working, quite literally overwhelmed by the blast they had just recorded.

Science Officer Sulak stood immediately.

"Sir, massive detonation in the battlefield. Estimate three minutes to impact."

"What?"

"Something happened out there, sir. There's a massive shockwave inbound. Energy release is in the petatons."

"Onscreen!"

_A massive white wall of energy streaked towards the ships...and Earth._

"Helm, emergency warp! Take us out, directly away from that thing!"

_The Starfleet ships quickly pivoted to a clear course and jumped to Warp Nine._

Grand Admiral Loran's last conscious image was of a blue vortex forming ahead of the yellow one he was entering.

March 25, 1600 GMT  
_Earth was hit hard. It was noon on the East Coast, 0900 on the West Coast, and 0600 on the Hawaiian Islands. The explosion was on the night side of Earth. Four minutes after the Orienti fleet accidentally wiped out everything within a million kilometers, the wave hit Earth. Africa, Europe and the Middle East suffered some damage, mostly fires. That was nothing, compared to Asia. A swath of land stretching from Tibet to Beijing was heated to almost two thousand degrees Celsius for at least a minute. There were no survivors. Korea was likewise destroyed. Japan was depopulated, her cities reduced to flaming piles of slag by the heat. Further south, the explosion merely set Hong Kong and Singapore afire in their entirety, and left Afghanistan and the Himalayas with temperatures that momentarily exceeded the boiling point of water. Most of the population survived, their nations shielded by the Moon. Australia was oddly untouched, as were Indonesia and the Southern Asian countries south of Singapore. The continental US was spared, although western Alaska was a wasteland. The islands of Hawaii were likewise spared from the worst of the blast. The secondary affects were more pronounced._

In Siberia, old Russian missiles that had waited for decades melted in their silos, their crews already boiled to death. Underground oil fields burst into flame, and the Ring of Fire unleashed a devastating series of earthquakes and volcanoes. The Artic ice cap melted almost completely in the West, flooding Earth's oceans with fresh water. A massive earthquake leveled Los Angeles and San Francisco, while a half-dozen small towns and parts of Seattle were wiped out by volcanic eruptions from Mount Rainier.

The ISS survived, due to its being over the United States and shielded by the Earth. On its first rotation, the shocked crew reported seeing Earth as having a gigantic red-and-black eye. The astronaut's first words were deemed unprintable.

Earth had entered the Interstellar Age.

**USS Enterprise, fleeing the blast**  
_The blast had been too weak to be felt by the time it had passed the Federation ships. They were five light-minutes from Earth. The starships immediately reengaged warp drive and established a tight orbit over the stricken planet, beaming survivors out of flaming cities and relieving tectonic stress via phaser beam. The Prime Directive was no longer a concern.  
Within the hour, the noncombatants arrived from the Oort Cloud. Earth was about to meet their big brothers..._

1 Hour After the Blast

_The Federation ships worked frantically to save as many people as they could, but the affected areas were too badly hit for there to be many survivors. Secondary earthquakes and volcanoes had rendered the Ring of Fire highly unstable, and a string of earthquakes had wreaked havoc on the coasts of the United States, Canada, Mexico, and every South American nation bordering the Pacific. Millions, possibly billions, were suffering. In the midst of this, a ship descended from the stars to land in Washington._

**USS Brant**  
The small escort ship slipped through the atmosphere of Earth and leveled off over Washington, surrounded by military aircraft. Their pilots were extremely confused. _Why does it have English markings?_ The National Mall, the ship's apparent landing zone, was cordoned off and surrounded by nervous Washington Police officers, Secret Service agents, and National Guardsmen. Beyond the cordon, several hundred thousand people watched silently, with more pouring in every second. Cameras broadcast the news to everyone who still had television...or wasn't dying in massive earthquakes fueled by the melting of Northern Asia.

Aboard the _Brant_, Captain John Harriman and Commander Robert Martin prepared to meet their past, literally. The ship touched down, a dull thud reverberating through the frame as the _Brant_ came to rest.

"Ready, sir?"

"Ready as I'll ever be, Bob. Let's do this."

The hatch whined open, giving Earth its first glance at its future. Robert watched as the Washington skyline was slowly exposed to him. The Washington Monument loomed overhead. Robert, John Harriman, and four MACOs stepped into the sunlight.

_The image was transmitted across the globe. Dozens of telescopic lenses recorded every step, every detail. The elegant red uniforms worn by the command staff and the black armor worn by the MACO team became known to everyone_.

John Harriman reached the bottom of the ramp first. A Marine guard had formed at the base of the ramp, and they snapped to attention as he passed. Someone had even unrolled a short length of red carpet. At the end of that carpet waited President George W. Bush. Harriman walked up and delivered a perfect salute, echoed by the other Starfleeters, every second of it watched by millions of people.

"Mr. President, it's an honor to meet you. I'm Captain John Harriman, United Federation of Planets."

President Bush was shocked. He had clearly not expected John to be so...human. Or to speak perfect English, for that matter.

"I am President Bush of the United States of America. I welcome you to Earth." The crowd cheered.

"My thanks, Mr. President. It's good to be home." No one knew quite how to take that. President Bush asked the obvious.

"So, you're from the future?"

"It's a little more complicated than that, sir."

"I expect so."

"Might I recommend that we go to the White House? We've got a lot to discuss."

"Of course. The White House it is!"

The Starfleet contingent, President Bush, and a fair-sized army of Secret Service personnel walked towards the presidential seat of power, trailed by thousands of journalists and onlookers.

"Mr. President, things are about to change a lot."

"Yep, kinda guessed that when we saw your ship. Figured we'd better bring out the leaders first. Mess up the alien strategery and all." The President's dry humor broke the ice.

"You know, Mr. President, I'm from Texas. Houston, to be exact."

"Really? Is it much different in the future?"

"Nope, still hot and muggy."

President Bush smiled. "Just like today. Some things never change. Let's get some work done."

They arrived at the White House a few minutes later in a convoy of heavy black cars. The White House was now a fortress. The Starfleet contingent was allowed inside, but the MACOs and Secret Service men were stopped at the Oval Office door. They eyed each other suspiciously, but neither group talked. Commander Martin, Captain Harriman, and President Bush were alone.

"Gentlemen, what the _hell_ is going on?"

Harriman sighed. "It's a long story, Mr. President." He began to tell their story.

Two hours later, he finished.

"So you boys are from the future, except it's a different future, and you show up just in time to help us recover from the greatest natural disaster in the history of the human race, and that disaster was caused by the alien battle we saw early this morning?"

"Pretty much, sir. We're here to help, and Earth is the only place we can go."

"Well, I guess I should call the UN."

**Dethora IV**  
The Minbari had learned from their missing frigate. Three Sharlins and six Tinashis arrived insystem, to meet twelve Warbirds and sixteen smaller ships.

Admiral T'ral was the commander of the Dethora fleet.

"Hail the intruders." The message was answered instantly.

"This is Satai Dukhat of Minbar. Please state your intentions."

"This is Admiral T'ral if the Romulan Star Empire. State yours."

"We are investigating a strange report we received from one of our ships. It has failed to report in."

"A ship matching your vessels attacked us a few days ago. It was destroyed."

Dukhat's eyes narrowed. "Was the attack provoked?"

"No, your ship fired first."

"I see." _Damned overeager warrior caste_

"I advise you take no hostile action against the Empire."

Dukhat sighed inwardly. "We do not wish a war with you. We will want to view your logs of the incident."

Admiral T'ral agreed. "We are willing to share them with you. I am sending them now." The files were transmitted quickly. _Better to send them a video than go to war._

Dukhat viewed the videos in silence. The _Blade of Passion_ was a tragedy, but not one to go to war over. _Maybe it will teach the Warriors to use cooler judgment._

"We see no reason to fight over this misunderstanding. The Minbari will not interfere in your affairs unless given a reason to." Dukhat nodded to the alyt of the Sharlin, and the fleet promptly jumped back into hyperspace, leaving a very confused Romulan admiral.

**Romulus**   
Six Romulan warships and a repair craft were now stationed in the system, watching over the Romulan homeworld. First Contact had been a quick affair, with the Romulans passing themselves off as Tal Shiar, which was true enough. They had been eagerly recieved by the new Emperor, who was true to the ancient Romulan traditions. It was odd for the Romulans of the future, who had never experienced the Empire in its glory days...even if it was a one-system Empire recently stolen from a weak hand. Both future and present Romulans were still Romulans, and plans were in development for unifying the systems. But for now, the older Romulans patrolled the system, watching for any intruders coming to hurt the fledgling bird that was the Empire.

**Day 6**  
**Centauri Prime, Imperial Palace**  
Emperor Tacias the Second was a worried man. His Empire was crumbling, his nation was at war, and the Houses were fighting each other at least as much as they were the rebels and Orienti.

"Emperor! I bring news of the attack fleet!" A courier ran up to Tacias's guard and handed him a data crystal before bowing and running. He didn't want to be around when it was viewed.

The Imperial Guardsman handled the crystal with precision, slipping it into a wall-mounted screen facing the throne. The image of a young Centauri man with the Imperial Crest on his robes stared out from the screen.

"This is Subcenturion Shrev, Royal Navy, House Tacitas. I am currently approaching the last known location of the Imperial Attack Fleet, a small solar system." The camera showed Shrev's hyperspace exit, and then...  
"The fleet seems to be gone. Energy readings in the area are consistent with a massive blast. There's nothing left." Shrev's camera panned the area, showing only scarred planets. Then a yellow hyperspace window and more swirling red eddies. The tape ended. Emperor Tacitas sat down and put his face in his hands.

"Nothing left? Nothing at all?" He began to weep.


End file.
